Rudy at the Lovestead

I made a total fool out of myself yesterday. Yes, I can hear the chorus out there: But, Marianne, you do that all the time." Well, yesterday's version was definitely one to write about; in fact, it's already been written about on "Huckleberries Online," which started the whole thing in the first place. I've learned from this experience to slow down, read carefully and reread before jumping the gun.

On my usual skimming of Oliveria's list of morning items, I read the top segment to say that Rudy Guililani's front man was looking for someone in Idaho to host a party where Rudy would speak via video to homes across the country this Wednesday afternoon----tomorrow. Since I kinda like Rudy, I thought it would be a hoot to have him come mingle with commoners at the Lovestead.

I would do the same for Obama or Bill Richardson or Mitt Romney because I could deal with any of them as Presidents. Yes, I can hear the chorus out there: Marianne, you're forsaking womanhood; you're bypassing Hillary. And, yes, chorus, you're absolutely right, and I don't feel too much traitorous guilt within.

Anyway, in my characteristic spontaneous burst of reaction, I wrote right away to Oliveria and said I'd love to hose Rudy at a party here at the Lovestead, touting the beautiful backdrop of horses in the field and Schweitzer Mountain.

I had actually considered that it would be totally unrealistic that such an event could be pulled off by Wednesday afternoon, with all the security needs and such, but then I figured there's a whole slough of those folks out there wanting to be President, and they probably have to move fast. I figured that Helen Baker and the Community Assistance League might even help me bake some real quick cookies for the event.

Oliveria got my note, said thanks and said he'd already passed it on to the Rudy front man. He then asked if I would re-post my gracious offering on "Huckleberries," so I did, adding a few extra tidbits---like what a great photo op the Lovestead could provide. I couldn't believe that things could move so fast, but Oliveria seemed pleased, and if Rudy's front man had already received word, they would be moving even faster.

Then, I decided to call my mother and tell her to get ready for Rudy.

"If he comes, I want to meet him," she intoned.

"Well, let me read to you what Oliveria put on 'Huckleberries,'" I said. Well, often when reading out loud, little noticed facts often pop up. The fact that Rudy's front man was really looking for some sucker to host a heap of Republicans while they watched Rudy on video came jumping off the screen prepared to go "splat" right between my eyes as I finished the sentence.

Oops, Marianne, you've done a real number on yourself this time, I thought to myself while hurrying to get Mother off the phone so I could hurry and undo my stupidity. Well, it's pretty hard to undo the stupidity, but I did renege on my "gracious" offer to host Republicans after learning I would not be hosting Rudy.

I also called Oliveria to make sure he'd gotten my message. He made me feel a little better by telling me that he had originally reacted the same way I had when the Rudy front man had called him the night before. When he realized it was only one of those high-tech house party gimmicks all the candidates seem to love using, the whole concept lost its luster in his mind too. Only difference was he hadn't made a public fool of himself.

Anyway, Rudy's not coming to the Lovestead. And, having Republicans running all over the place would not be feasible anyway cuz we're still in dark age dial-up and high tech political house parties just don't work so well with dial-up. So, I got off the hook, but not before relaying to Oliveria that the real reason I'd jumped at the chance was that some day I'd like to lay my eyes on a real live human that's been President. Rudy may have a chance, but I'm not so sure I'd settle for looking at Hillary, just to fulfill my life ambition.

I almost saw Bill Clinton in 1993 when we were inside the White House while the President and a bunch of happy people were celebrating the adoption of the NAFTA agreement. By the time, I got to a door where I could actually see the President, he had already boarded a helicopter enroute to Air Force One and a trip to Asia. So, we missed out on that one.

If anyone's got any clout with anyone who's been President or anyone who's sure they're going to be President, tell 'em to make arrangements for Marianne to fulfill her desire to cross one more thing off life's list of "things to do." And, be sure to tell 'em that she'll be glad to host them at the Lovestead, feed them cookies and even let them sign the Lodgepole Log.

In the meantime, Marianne's in the bathroom scrubbing that big coating of egg yoke off her face.